


The Best Kind

by AuthorToBeNamedLater



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Umbara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7294192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorToBeNamedLater/pseuds/AuthorToBeNamedLater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin and Rex, after Umbara.</p><p>Anakin is the best kind of general.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Cody and Obi-Wan get all the fan love. Why don't Anakin and Rex get any? And why is there such a dearth of Umbara angst?

Things hadn’t been right in the 501st legion since Umbara.

Anakin tried to give his men their privacy. He couldn’t help picking up on strong emotion in the Force or sensing who was nearby. It was something every Jedi got used to, as natural and sight or sound to anyone else. But Anakin deliberately didn’t pry into his soldiers’ thoughts.

Right now he didn’t need to pry. He’d have to be blind to not see that something was very, very wrong.

Anakin had reached his hand out to Fives’ shoulder when they reunited on the _Resolute_ and the ARC trooper shied away like he was afraid Anakin would strike him. One day Anakin had rested his hand on his lightsaber hilt—a nervous habit he’d never broken—and Jesse flinched. Rex was gruffer than usual, even snapping at Ahsoka once or twice. Whenever Anakin walked into the room, he noticed the chatter would cease and every clone present tensed as if waiting for a firing squad.

 _It’s not just me. They’re different with each other too._ Squabbling was nothing new. Men crammed into a tight space under stressful conditions were going to bicker. But now arguments broke out over next to nothing. Camaraderie had given way to wary tension. The troops looked tired all the time, and sometimes Anakin could even feel their nightmares. He’d sensed their dreams before. But ever since Umbara he felt them more frequently and intensely.

_Something happened on Umbara. I need to know what, but somehow I think asking might be a bad idea._

Anakin was strolling through the corridor pondering his situation when he felt a tidal wave of emotion in the Force. The young general braced his hand against the bulkhead to steady himself.

_What was that?_

Anakin closed his eyes and sorted through the jumble in his mind. _Ahsoka?_ No, not her. A quick touch of their bond showed she was sleeping. Obi-Wan was back on Coruscant, so Anakin definitely wasn’t feeling him.

 _Rex. It’s Rex._ Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Torrent Company’s captain was in the training room just up the hall. If the explosion in Anakin’s head was any indication, Rex was quite upset.

Anakin dashed to the room and keyed the door open. “Rex? Rex!”

Rex was sitting in the corner to Anakin’s right, dressed in a PT uniform and covering his face with his taped, bloody hands. A broken punching bag spilled sand on the mat.

“Rex.” Anakin rushed to his captain’s side. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” The clone’s Force signature hemorrhaged anger and frustration.

Rex dropped his hands but didn’t open his tightly-shut eyes. “General Skywalker,” he said through gritted teeth.

Anakin looked at the busted bag and Rex’s bruised and bleeding fists. The general grabbed a first aid kit from the wall and without asking permission set to bandaging Rex’s knuckles. “Did the punching bag do something wrong?” Anakin asked mildly. He swabbed disinfectant over his captain’s hands.

The humor didn’t have the intended effect. Rex dropped his head back against the bulkhead and took long, slow breaths like he was trying not to lose control. “I’m fine, sir; please leave.”

“No and no,” Anakin said flatly. He unwound the tape from Rex’s wrists. “You’re not fine and I’m not going anywhere.”

“How did you find me?” Rex’s voice was strained.

“I felt you,” Anakin explained quietly. He set the wad of used tape aside and sprayed a bandage over Rex's knuckles.

Rex huffed. “What’s a man got to do for a little solitude on this garbage scow?”

“You know I can’t help sensing you,” Anakin said. “And you were giving off enough emotion to knock me over.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Rex seemed to be calming a little, so Anakin chanced sitting down next to him. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just having a hard day, General.”

“You’ve had hard days before,” Anakin pointed out. “I’ve never known you to break things.”

Rex said nothing.

“You’ve been on edge since we shipped out,” Anakin observed. “Not just you. Everyone.”

A ripple of grief passed through the Force and Rex swallowed.

“What happened on Umbara?” Anakin asked in a whisper.

Rex sighed wearily. “You read the after-action report.”

“I did,” Anakin acknowledged. “But I’m starting to think there’s a lot more to the story.”

Rex said nothing. Anakin slid his arm around his first in command’s shoulders, and Rex curled into the touch almost desperately, like the frightened child he really was.

“Are you ordering me to tell you?” The defeated tone in Rex’s voice made Anakin’s soul hurt.

“As your general? No,” Anakin rubbed his hand across Rex’s shoulders. “I’m asking as your friend, Rex. You’re in pain and I want to help.”

Rex sniffed and buried himself deeper into his general’s arms. Anakin wondered when someone had last held the captain like this.  _Probably never._ The Kaminoans made the Jedi look affectionate.

“I’m not blind,” Anakin went on softly. “I can tell the men are scared. I can tell they’re scared of _me._ I went back to Coruscant and everything was fine, I come back and everyone’s acting like I’ll cut their heads off at a moment’s notice.”

“We’re not scared of you, sir,” Rex said quickly. “We’re scared of General Krell.”

Anakin felt wrath coiling in his chest like a snake and forced it down. _I knew it._ “What happened?”

Rex took a shaky breath. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start from when I left,” Anakin commanded gently. “Tell me everything.”

For the next hour Anakin sat motionless while Rex relayed every heartbreaking detail of the battle. He told of Krell’s refusal to use the men’s names and how he made them march for half a day without rest or food. (“He didn’t think we were any better than droids.”) Krell’s refusal to lead from the front, his reckless strategies and high casualties. (“I had to pull Kix off some of them.”) Rex told of the infighting that had nearly torn the legion apart. (“Maybe we wouldn’t fight him if we were busy fighting each other.”) Krell had forced Rex to arrange Jesse and Fives’ execution, but none of the squad would carry it out. (“I’ll never forgive myself, sir. Never.”) He tricked the 501st and the 212th into shooting at each other. (“I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t taken that trooper’s helmet off.”) Rex told how they’d been forced to take down the rogue Jedi. (“I couldn’t do it. Dogma pulled Fives’ pistol and did it. Dogma! We didn’t even like him, sir! But we didn’t want to see him arrested for war crimes!”) Now, weeks later, the men were now jumpy and skittish while awake and unable to find relief in sleep. (“Every night I hear them screaming.”)

By the time he finished the tale Rex was in tears and Anakin wasn’t far off himself.

 _I can’t believe they had to go through this. No wonder they’re terrified of me now._ Anakin stroked Rex’s back through the gray T-shirt until the captain’s sobbing faded to the occasional sniffle and hiccup.

“I’m sorry, General,” Rex mumbled, not making any move to pull away.

“No, Rex,” Anakin said heavily. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He shook his head. “I never should have left you with that son of a bitch.”

Rex stiffened a little, obviously surprised at his general’s language. “Sir.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Anakin apologized. “Something didn’t feel right from the start. I knew something was off but I didn’t pay attention.”

“What choice did you have?” Rex asked roughly. “They relieved you of command. And you didn’t know…you didn’t know what Krell would do to us.”

Anakin tightened his grip on his wrecked soldier. _I knew—I_ knew— _this whole thing wasn’t right and I went along with it. I abandoned my men to suffer and die._ The young Jedi shut his eyes. “Oh, what kind of general am I?”

He almost didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until Rex pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. “The best kind, sir.”

Anakin blinked.

“You’re the best kind of general,” Rex repeated, fierce conviction glimmering in his still-wet eyes. “You—you’d never stay behind while we went into battle. Or make us march without a break like Krell did. You treat us like…like we’re human.”

“You are,” Anakin said without thinking. _How could anyone spend more than a few minutes with these men and think anything else?_

Rex nodded. “You named Niner, you stayed with Tup when he got sick that night on Geonosis. When we’re hurt you come to the medical bay and help us fall asleep. You held Mole on the battlefield so he wouldn’t die alone. You don’t let us suffer when we don’t have to.

“I hear the men talk, sir. We’d all take a blaster bolt for you.” Rex wiped his eyes. “Don’t blame yourself, General Skywalker. Please. We don’t.”

It wasn’t easy to render Anakin Skywalker speechless, but Rex had done it.

“You’re nothing like Krell,” Rex leaned into Anakin’s arms again. “I couldn’t imagine having to draw on you. I don’t care who gave the order. I couldn’t do it.”

“You’re never gonna have to do that,” Anakin soothed.

Rex fell silent and Anakin resumed rubbing the clone captain’s back. A few minutes later Rex was asleep.

 _Good. He needs it._ The captain might not have said it, but Anakin wasn’t buying for a second that Rex didn’t have the same nightmares as his brothers.

A soft, insistent beeping. _My comlink?_ No. Anakin looked to his left. _Rex’s._

_“Captain? Rex? It’s Kix. Are you there, sir?”_

The link was almost out of Anakin’s reach, but he managed to grab it before the noise could wake its owner. “Kix. It’s General Skywalker.”

A confused pause. _“General Skywalker?”_

“I’m here with Rex.” Anakin kept his voice low. “We’re in the training room on deck ten.”

_“Is…he OK? Do you need me?”_

“He’s fine,” Anakin assured. He felt an ache in his chest at the mental image of Kix—Kix, who felt every man he lost—having to leave his brothers on the battlefield. “Anything I can help you with?”

_“I—well, when you can, tell him Big Wheel’s going to be all right.”_

Anakin smiled. The young trooper had been injured badly on Umbara. “Good news, Kix. Thank you.”

_“You’re welcome, sir.”_

Anakin set the link aside and resigned himself to his role as Rex’s pillow for the foreseeable future.

 _He’s been trying to hold the men together all by himself. I’d bust a punching bag too._ Anakin knew the loneliness of command entirely too well. A commanding officer couldn’t show his fears to his troops. Anakin had overheard more than a few heart-to-hearts between Rex and Cody when the 501st and 212th were together, but right now Cody was half a galaxy away. Rex had no one. Especially not with everyone else suffering as badly as he was.

_Not no one. He’s got me._

Rex shifted and grunted, and Anakin held on tighter. “Sleep, Rex.” The general put the full weight of the Force behind his words. “Rest now, soldier.”

.

.

.

Rex woke in his bunk with no recollection of how he’d gotten there.

 _What time is it?_ Somehow Rex didn’t think it was the middle of the night. Even in space, one’s body had a way of discerning such things. Besides, the barracks were all but empty.

Rex wrinkled his nose. _Stang, I stink._ He was still in his PT uniform and his hands throbbed from abusing the punching bag.

Punching bag. _The training room. General Skywalker. Did he bring me here?_ Torrent Company’s captain sat up and saw a small piece of flimsi along with a glass of water and two pills sitting on the bedside tray.

_Rex—_

_I couldn’t sit with your smelly ass any longer. Get in the shower as soon as you wake up._

_I gave Kix orders to knock you out if you won’t take the painkillers voluntarily. Don’t tough it out and be a hero. You’ve done enough of that lately._

_Never try to go through something like this alone ever again. You know where to find me._

_That IS an order._

_\--Gen. Skywalker_

Rex chuckled a little as he read the note. “Yes, sir,” he murmured to himself as he swallowed down the pills and headed for the shower.

The 501st had the best kind of general, indeed.


End file.
